


Help?

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, Slurs, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:16:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori makes the horrible mistake of asking Nori for advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MocaJava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MocaJava/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Ori knows if he were to ask Dori about sex he'd have a conniption, so he turns to his other big brother.” prompt on [The Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14338.html?thread=25750274#t25750274).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

There are some things a dwarf should just _know_ , and Ori knows he’s too old to still be in the dark. But their household has always been a strange one, and being closer to his brothers than his parents has left him lacking in certain social lessons. Normally, when he needs advice, or help, or just about anything, he goes to Dori first, because Dori is the oldest and wisest and would do just about anything for Ori that he could. 

But he’d probably have a conniption if Ori asked him for _this_ sort of advice, so Ori finally works up the courage to ask Nori, “Can we talk?”

Scooping stew into bowls next to Bofur, Nori chirps, “Sure, kid—what’s on your mind?” His voice is a normal volume, not at all the quiet whisper that Ori started in, and Ori finds himself blushing as Bofur glances over at them. Bofur might be a better dwarf to ask than Nori— _any_ dwarf might be a better one to ask than Nori—but it’s just too embarrassing, so Ori sticks to his family.

He tugs at Nori’s sleeve and mutters quietly, “In private.” His eyebrows lift, like trying to silently communicate his need, and Nori stares at him for a few seconds.

Then Nori says, “Ohhh,” in a terribly obvious way, and he shoves his ladle into Bofur’s free hand, turning to scoop Ori up. He brushes Ori quickly away from the campfire and the tight-knit ring of dwarves. At least they’ll have that privacy, though they don’t go out of eyesight from the camp: just out into the edge of trees. There, Nori stops and holds Ori at arm’s length, clarifying, “You want _that_ talk?” When Ori just nods, Nori grins broadly, announcing, “Then you came to the right dwarf.”

Ori hopes so but isn’t so sure. He waits with baited breath for his brother to begin, even though he has his own questions he wants to ask—like when is it appropriate to hold hands, and should he ask someone before he kisses them, and what’s all that business with tongue and not tongue? But all his time as a budding scribe and hiding under Dori’s wing has left him with no experience, and he knows he should probably hear everything from the beginning.

“Dwalin’s pretty big,” Nori starts, nodding his head towards the camp, “and his boots are giant, so he probably has a huge cock. That means you need to use lots of oil—don’t just settle for spit when you’re starting out—you’ll hurt yourself.”

Ori blinks.

Then his jaw nearly drops, and he hisses, turning beet red, “ _Nori!_ ”

“It’s important!” Nori insists. “People will tell you size doesn’t matter, but when it’s up your bum—and let’s face it, you’re probably going to be taking a few cocks up your bum on this journey—size absolutely matters! If someone’s particularly big, you need to prepare for it! I’ve got some oil I can lend you, but I can’t give it all away, and if Dwalin’s smart, he’ll have packed some of his own—”

“Who said anything about Dwalin?” Ori splutters. He has to fight to keep his voice down so the others can’t hear, and he turns his shoulder towards the camp, because his face is burning up. Of course he’s _thought_ about having sex with Dwalin—who wouldn’t? Dwalin’s strong and gruff and handsome, and just about everything any dwarf could want, but Ori never _said_ anything about it.

Nori waves his hand like that’s unimportant. “It’s obvious, the way you always twitter around him, and he’s always protecting you. Just be sure to use your fingers first to make yourself nice and loose, then oil. Okay? Fingers, oil.” He ends by slapping Ori’s shoulder jovially, as though that’s it. 

“But... I didn’t...” Ori trails off, not even knowing where to start. That doesn’t help him _at all_. And what’s he supposed to do if they go the other way around? Or if he finds a woman he likes? And he didn’t bring any oil. He catches himself looking back towards then camp, then quickly fixates on Nori again before any of the others can see him trembling like this. “Nori, I wasn’t asking about _sex with Dwalin_...”

“Why not?” Nori asks, looking genuinely confused. Then he clamps his hands onto Ori’s shoulders again and leans forward, muttering like they’re conspiring, “Listen, Ori, he’s Thorin’s right-hand man. That means when we retake Erebor, he’ll probably get the best treasure. And he’s from a good house. He’ll have _money_ , Ori—you gotta make sure you attach your cart to a good horse while we’re all still out here on even footing.”

He should’ve gone to Dori. He might’ve never heard anything past how to kiss, but he still should’ve gone to Dori. Completely misinterpreting Ori’s silence, Nori says, “Don’t worry, Ori! You’re cute. You can totally get in if you just wiggle your bum around and bat your eyelashes.”

“Wiggle my...” Ori feels vaguely like he’s going to faint. “But... what if... that’s all specific to Dwalin, what if he doesn’t like me, or I don’t... I don’t know?”

“You can be a slut later,” Nori says, to Ori’s utter horror. “Take it from the best whore in the Blue Mountains. Pin down the big, rich one first, then worry about sucking off others.” He pauses for a moment before adding, “But don’t get too attached to Kíli or Fíli. I know I said you’re cute, but they’re _really_ cute, and you’re probably not going to be able to keep up with princes—or deal with Thorin—so just...” He stops again, going rigid. Then he leans closer, his face going very serious and a little dark, and he tells Ori warningly, “And don’t touch Bofur.”

“What? Why not?” Not that he was going to, but Ori’s officially completely lost.

Nori just repeats, “Just don’t.”

Mainly because Ori’s never seen Nori look so intense in his life, he dazedly says, “Okay.”

“Good.” Relaxing, Nori leans back again. His grin slips right back on, bright and cheery. “Well, I’m glad we had this talk.” He playfully punches Ori’s shoulder. Only Nori’s other hand stops Ori from toppling over. 

Then Nori lets go, turns, and marches right back to camp as though everything makes sense now. Ori feels mildly traumatized. 

When he looks towards the circle of dwarves, he accidentally catches Dwalin’s eye. Dwalin smiles invitingly: a rare, kind look that seems reserved for very few people. The familiar butterflies that Ori wanted to ask about flutter in his stomach. But he’s still wholly unequipped to deal with them, beyond the knowledge that when the time comes, he’ll need lots of oil. 

He wanders back on shaking knees and settles down beside Dori, too afraid to touch Bofur’s hands when he’s finally offered stew.


End file.
